A Madwoman and her Box
by FireflyEmbers
Summary: Rose is stuck in the parallel world, but not all is as it seems... especially the red information booth standing on the corner. But why is Rose so drawn to it? The story of Rose's journey during Seasons 3 & 4 and her fight to get back to her Doctor.
1. Chapter 1

_(( This is just an idea I've been batting around in my head, semi-AU-ish in nature but as close to canon as I can possibly make it - just for fun. Cheers. :) ))_

London, Great Britain:

**She wasn't entirely sure** when she first noticed the information booth sitting in front of Torchwood Tower. Perhaps she'd been aware of it from the first time she'd stumbled out of the building in a haze of tearful disbelief, numb to anything except the cold reality of the hard walls dividing the world she was in from the only one she wanted to be in. Surely she'd glanced at it at least a couple of times in the following weeks as she trudged in and out, despite how she'd barely been able to remember when she'd last ate, nevermind whether or not there was a strangely out-of-place information booth sitting on a lonely street corner.

In all likelihood, the first time she became truly aware of it was several weeks after she'd returned from a windy, bleak beach in Norway and looked, finally _looked_, at where she was. Perhaps he'd meant to give her some sort of closure. Perhaps he'd intended for her to finally be able to let him go. In his own way, he was always trying to save her, no matter what she wished or wanted.

The daft man. All it'd done was remind her of her promise. She'd said _forever. _Dimensional walls be damned, she was going to keep that promise.

So she'd entered Torchwood Tower with renewed purpose, a determined set to her lips, and walked past the strange red information booth twice a day. If she couldn't put a finger on how she'd become aware of it, she remembered exactly the first time she'd stopped and looked at it - and realized just how strange it was.

She'd been late that morning, and in a rush. Despite that, despite her mother shrieking in her ear and the wails of Tony in the background as Jackie _forbade_ her to go on any more of her crazy, dangerous missions chasing after "that man", she had made a mental note - filed away a sliver of surprise - when the information booth was not in her periphery as she shoved her way through the revolving glass doors in the front.

The sun was setting when she finally gave up for the day and resigned herself to heading home, back to the ridiculously big flat her father insisted on renting for her despite her protests that she was perfectly capable of providing for herself. She remembered the way it'd turned all of the windows of Torchwood Tower into myraid swirls of red-gold and ember-orange, draping the tall building in an ethereal coat of sunset. It wasn't the brilliant hues that had stopped her in her tracks. It was the information booth, sitting on the corner, as certainly as it'd never left.

She'd walked around it, then. It was a square booth no bigger than a telephone booth, with the funny circle on top complete with a black question mark on a white field. There was a map of the city on one side, with the obligatory "you are here" sticker responsibly in place. Another was an advert for her father's energy drinks. The third repeated the map. And the last side was a door. Just a door, with a single handle, presumably to store fliers and other such items on the inside, despite the fact that there were no fliers, paper maps, or informational brochures to be found.

Slowly, she'd reached towards the handle. No part of her was surprised when the door didn't even budge, but every part was disappointed.

She'd laughed at herself, then. What was she expecting? It was just a silly info booth, and she was a silly girl for seeing alien when there was no reason for it to be.

Yet, she couldn't help herself. She visited the strange red box and thought of the blue box she'd lost. She talked to it like she'd talked to his TARDIS and pointed out the false advertising of an information booth with a definitive lack of brochures. Sometimes she touched the handle, though she never tried to open it again after the first day. It didn't seem right.

The day came when everything seemed utterly hopeless, and that was the day it all changed.

They'd been making steady progress in getting the dimensional cannon working when the first of the stars went out. She hadn't been the one to notice it; in fact, no one in her entire team had noticed it. It was one of the spectacles in the monitoring lab that'd noticed - and noted - the lack of one particular star with no known cause. It seemed an omen, for that day their previously-hopeful prototype had suffered a complete meltdown and exploded, nearly taking Rose and half of the lab with it.

Her father was furious, of course, and even an particularly heated screaming match across three offices would not deter his final edict:

_No more_.

No more dimensional cannon, no more talk of returning to Rose's original world, no more testing - no more. Torchwood had other fish to fry - such as the remaining contingent of Cybermen in scattered places around the globe, not to mention a report of a reptilian humanoid running around downtown Boston in broad daylight. He would allow her to stay on the field team, but he was done letting her pine after a man he couldn't even honestly say she had any chance of ever even seeing again.

She'd stormed out, of course, and before she knew it, she was at the booth, standing with her hand on the smooth wood and fresh tears on her cheeks.

"Blimey, I turn the perception filter up to _eleven_, and you just walk right through it!"

Rose snapped around to find a tall woman standing behind her. She had black hair caught back in an elegant twist at the back of her head, strands escaping to frame blue eyes that danced with amusement. She wore a strangely Victorian garb, complete with overcoat, knee-length skirts, and high leather boots. Strangest of all, she was regarding Rose with an expression that was somewhere between exasperated and amused - an expression that hit Rose right in the aching hollow in her chest.

"Beg pardon?"

The woman nodded at the red booth behind the blonde. "You're going to break it, then she'll be stuck like... like _that_. C'n you imagine how embarassing _that'd_ be? Fat lot of good it'd do me, too. Imagine being in a swamp like Laguna IV with a bloody information booth disguise."

Rose swallowed around the lump in her throat, her heart thudding so hard in her chest she thought it'd shatter a few ribs. "It's a ... a ship, then? A TARDIS?"

The woman's smile faded slightly. "It is. But not the one you're hopin' for, Rose Tyler."

Rose turned to face the woman fully now, forcing her voice to be strong. "Who are you?"

"I was tryin' to avoid this, you know," the woman said in a low voice. "I knew it'd be messy. Complicated. But your bond to him... You knew her, my TARDIS, from the very first day, no matter how hard I cranked the chameleon defenses. I guess it was inevitable, then, unless I'd left, and I can't afford that, not with her sick an' all."

Rose took a step forward. "Who. Are. You?"

She straightened up, meeting Rose's dark eyes with pale blue ones, a ghost of a smile hovering over her lips. "It's a pleasure t' meet you too, Rose Tyler. I'm the Professor."


	2. Chapter 2

The Amazon, South America:

**"They're going to want** to kill them. You know it jus' as well as I do."

Rose braced her hands on the table in front of her as she regarded the dark-haired woman across from her. The Professor's arms were folded, one across her chest, one raised as she tapped her lower lip thoughtfully, staring out the window in front of her through the shattered glass that remained in the wide frame.

From behind them, through the scorched hallway and the bent-in door, came the sounds of the rainforest at twilight, a cacophony of chirps, tweets, and haunting calls. Rose would have thought the sounds comforting, except for the clang of metal and the hiss of pneumatic pistons that jarred through the air, out of place amongst the natural background noise. For whatever reason, the sounds of cybernetics seemed even more alien when set to the otherwise peaceful audio backdrop.

"I don't even understand how this happened. Wasn't providin' the code supposed to destroy them _all?_ How are they even alive?" Rose turned her head and stared at the two dozen forms in the large room laying just beyond the barrier of the once-whole window.

The Professor's eyes wandered to her, a smile on her lips. "Humans are brilliant, that's how. Marvelous creatures, you are. Resilient. Rise to any challenge, no matter the odds. This lot's no different." She gestured with one hand at the Cybermen standing, staring back at the both of them. "When we uploaded the emotional inhibitor release code, a small subset of the population regained their minds - pun intended, of course - looked at themselves, and went 'huh. Ok.' Ergo, no self-propagating emotional cascade causing an overload in the neural circuitry, ergo, no self-destruct, ergo... intact, individual Cybermen."

"We don't have time for this," Mickey bellowed from the doorway. "Get what you needed - we've got to get out of here before the natives arrive!"

The two women exchanged glances, Rose's lips setting tightly into a grim line.

"They have to come with us. The tribesmen'll destroy 'em."

"Ne-ga-tive," the Cyberman in front replied. "They are equipped with primitive weapons. They can-not damage our superior steel structures."

"Oh, I wouldn't dismiss the power of these so-called primitives. They've done a brilliant job keeping you lot from spreading any further than this single base, after all," the Professor observed with a wry twist of her mouth, her blue eyes narrowed at the silver beings in front of her. Finally snapping to a decision, she strode forward. "Look here. You all have two choices. One," she held up one finger, "you can stay here, take your chances with the natives - and I'll tell you, my bet is fully on _them_. Two," up went the second finger. "You can dig deep - real deep - and find whatever shreds of humanity are left in your little still-soft brains and come with us."

The Cyberman took a half-step backwards. "We do-not understand."

"It's simple. You're not under the Cyberleader's control anymore. And we've completely destroyed any ability you have to create more of yourselves. You're a dying species. But - but! You could still do some good, show off what you can do, by helping us back at Torchwood. There's lots of monsters lurking out there, in the stars. What d'you say about joinin' us and helpin' us scare 'em all away?"

She cast a quick glance at Rose, then looked back at the Cybermen, her voice softening a degree. "Look. I know you know what you are - now I need you to remember who you _were_. It's been taken away from you, but let us show take you somewhere where you can still be someone, where you can still matter. Where you can be as human - or as cyber - as you want to be."

A dozen metal faces stared back at the small team of humans without any sign of movement or emotion. Rose shivered and hugged her jacket closer to her, all too aware of the upgrades these Cybermen had and how she, the Professor, and the rest of the Torchwood team were no better than moving targets for them.

The Professor drew her head up, leveling a stern look at the Cybermen. "Well? What'll it be? Death? Or a chance at a life?"

The Cyberman in front lowered its arms to its side. "Co-nun-drum. What would our primary purpose be?"

"How about the protection of Earth? Y' could be Torchwoodmen instead. Or Cyber-protectors," Rose suggested. Outside she could hear the whoops of the approaching tribesman as they prepared for battle and the soft hum of the Torchwood team's guns vibrating to life.

"Primary mission accepted. We now require a designated leader. State new Cybercontroller."

The Professor turned, a twinkle in her blue eyes. "Oh, I don't know. How about... Rose Tyler?"

Rose stiffened, eyes widening in surprise. Any chance she had to protest, however, was cut-off by the Cybermen springing into action. The metal beings stomped through the broken glass, forming up into two ranks in front of the blonde woman, fists against their chest.

"A-ffirm-a-tive. Rose Tyler. Des-ig-na-tion Cybercontroller. Issue commands."

"What've you done?" Rose gasped at the Professor. The black-haired woman simply tossed her head back and laughed.

"Oh, _now_ it's gettin' interestin'."


	3. Chapter 3

Torchwood Two, Glasgow:

"**No, no, no and** _more no_. I can't believe you're even asking me this!" The man was small, balding, and bespectacled, complete in a velvet red coat and a green plaid tie. He was on his feet, but still barely stood tall enough to slam his hands down emphatically on the paper-covered desk in front of him. A small gold placard on the corner of his desk read Archibald Reagan, Vice President.

"Last time I let the two of you go off on an unauthorized mission, you brought back two dozen Cybermen that I-"

"Cyberprotectors. We're callin' 'em CPs," the Professor replied cheerfully.

"-that I then had to clear through not only Torchwood, but the UN itself. Do you know how awkward it is to go to the Secretary of Planetary Defense and say yes, I know, we just got done fighting a global war against these creatures, but could you possibly be okay with us keeping a squad of them as _pets_?"

"They're not-" Rose began.

"And don't you think I've forgotten the incident with the Chief of Homeland Security's wife's dog. You can't just go around and let your little robot-men vaporize anything that even slightly annoys them!"

The Professor shrugged one shoulder. "In all due fairness, that poodle was on the offensive - and I mean full-on attack-mode with teeth and foam and all - and the CPs were only protectin' their-"

"Now you want me to go to the Emporer of Japan - the man responsible for two-thirds of the zeppelin industry worldwide- and ask him to give over his top secret laboratory codes so that you two can traipse around in his advanced space flight prototype development labs and follow up on a _hunch?_"

"It's really more of an educated guess, but-" The Professor cut off. "Right. Not helping. Sorry."

"Oh don't you even start. There's a very good reason all of your security clearances were revoked two decades ago, alien genius or not!" The short man's face was now nearly as red as his jacket as he wagged a finger at the dark-haired woman.

"Aw, don't insult my intelligence, I hate when lesser lifeforms-"

"Professor!" Rose hissed.

"Get. _OUT!_"

The gilded double doors slammed shut behind them, leaving the two women standing in the hallway without even so much as an aide to show them the way out. It might have also been in large part due to the tall silver creature standing in the middle of the foyer, facing the hallway that lead towards the elevators, a protective sentinel.

At Rose's sigh, the CP turned to face them with the hiss and clump of firing pistons.

"Action re-qui-red?"

"No, CP-2. It's okay. Let's just head back to London."

The Professor simply looked amused, striding down the hallway without waiting. Rose and CP-2 hurried to keep up with the dark-haired woman. "I told you it wouldn't work. This very organization was built to tell me no, which is all quite unfair. It's not my fault that that silly Queen Victoria let that stupid lupomorph bite her and now the formerly royal family is running around the plains of Northern Scotland furry and angry everytime the moon is high."

"Yes, but -"

"Still! All for the better, I say. 'President' is much more efficient than 'Your Majesty' anyway and then we're not held captive by the whims of genetics, which - I'll have you know - are _very_ whimsical which surprises a lot because, really, you wouldn't expect subatomic particles to have such a splendid sense of humor." The elevator dinged shut behind them, complete with an ominous groan of protest at CP-2's full weight. The Professor didn't seem to notice.

"But, Professor -"

"That reminds me, though, I _do_ owe her a bit of an apology, what for how our last meeting turned out."

Rose stared at the dark-haired Time Lord. "Who, Queen Victoria?"

The Professor leveled a look down her nose that made Rose shut her mouth and make good her escape through the now-opening elevator door. "No, President Jones. Whyever would I apologize to Queen Victoria?"

"Well, you apparently got her and her entire family turned into werewolves. Somethin', I might add, that the Doctor and I managed to _prevent._" Rose smirked smugly, then stepped forward a bit quicker, amending, "mostly..." under her breath. One of the Professor's eyebrows shot skyward but Rose plunged on before the Time Lady could pick at that. She did so _love_ to pick things apart. "That still leaves us with a problem - a big problem. We need that engine for the dimensional cannon, or it's not goin' t' work."

They emerged out into a spacious glass foyer bordered by a busy sidewalk, the skies overhead dark and heavy with clouds. Despite the bustle, the city seemed strangely quiet and subdued. A heavy pall lay over the city like a fog, smothering the color out of everything. Rose let her eyes wander over the people, hunched and bundled against the cold and the grey, so few talking and no one laughing. Even the clanging steps of the large Cyberman behind them seemed muted in the dim light from their own fading sun.

"It's like this everywhere," she said softly. "In every city, on every continent. It's like, as the stars go out, so does the hope in people's hearts. Everyone is givin' up, and we're runnin' out of time." Her throat constricted, and she closed her eyes, hands clenching in her pockets. Every day she was here he seemed further away, slipping from her grasp. Every day, it seemed like the walls between their worlds were that much taller, that much thicker.

"Hey." A slim hand gripped her shoulder, prompting her to open her eyes and look over at the Professor. "Don't give up on him now, Rose Tyler. I promised I'd help you get back to him, and I will."

Rose nodded once, swallowing hard. The Time Lady smiled slightly in approval, and then turned towards CP-2. 

"Very good. Almost all charged up?"

"A-ffirm-a-tive. Teleportation circuit at 98%. Estimated charge time two minutes-thirty two seconds and counting." CP-2 raised one arm and a small metal plate slid back to reveal a charge bar that was nearly full. Several small diagnostic screens fluctuated underneath, graphs that the Professor scrutinized for a long moment.

"Fantastic. We'll be back in London in two shakes of a Cyberprotector's hand. Well, arm. Well, not really shaking at all but depolarization of the temporal field generating a flux-"

"Professor," Rose interrupted. "We still don't have a power source for the dimensional cannon. What're we goin' t'do?"

"I'll tell you what we're not going to do, Rose Tyler. We are not going to apologize to that stodgy President Jones after all because _yes_ - I do know who she is, and she's a terrible cheat at cards. I've just decided that's absolutely unforgivable, President or no. What we are going to do, however, Rose Tyler, is go back to London where you are going to round up that bickerin' couple of lads with their ridiculously large guns and we're going to go get us an engine."

Rose perked up. "We are?"

"Absolutely! Because what am I? I'm brilliant that's what, and-" The Professor rounded on Rose with a swirl of skirts, her eyes sparking maniacally. "And I just got a _really_ interestin' idea."


	4. Chapter 4

Underground Lab, Soviet Russia:

**"EX-TER-MI-NATE!"**

There was the snap and sizzle of a laser bouncing off CP-8's personal forcefield and splattering uselessly against one of the steel bunker beams lining the walls. The hiss-stomp of the tall CP didn't even falter, punctuating against the stoccato of Rose and the Professor's footfalls. They thundered down the hallway, half-sliding, half-stumbling around a corner as CP-8 and CP-14 brought up the rear, keeping up with the fleeing humanoids effortlessly.

Once again, Rose was incredibly glad that the Professor had managed to something-something-increase-the-piston-firing-rate-something-something-else - i.e., make the Cybermen capable of _running._

Bellowed orders echoed through the underground base, thrumming against their ears as the sharp crack of the Daleks' lasers brought scream after scream. Each time the yelling behind them and the sharp _rat-tat-tat_ of guns grew one degree quieter.

Rose slammed her back against one of the walls, her chest heaving. CP-8 and CP-14 stepped into the alcove, forming a guard of metal between the two women and the approaching Daleks.

The Professor grabbed Rose's wrist, her eyes pale and intense as she pressed one finger to her lips.

Rose nodded once, pressing her lips together in a desperate attempt to muffle the ragged breath that tore at her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. The Professor dropped to one knee, leaning out ever so slightly and pulling a small stylo from inside her coat pocket. It hummed softly as she clicked several of the buttons, then flicked it up to examine it.

"We've bought ourselves some space, but it won't last long." She immediately stood and began to inspect their two metallic companions, her tongue clicking in disapproval at the deep rents along CP-14's chestplate from one of the security guard's guns.

"What's the plan?" Rose asked, rubbing the palms of her hands along the sides of her pants.

"How's your shield holding up, 8?" The Professor pressed several buttons on the Cyberman's shoulder, humming under her breath at the small display revealed by the panel that popped out.

"Power level de-crea-sed by 45% efficiency. Deflection from all vital organs succ-ess-ful except for neuron-gel in right arm. I am un-a-ble to use it." The Cyberman's voice fluctuated slightly and the Professor's brow furrowed. She leveled her pen at 8's shoulder, her frown deepening.

"Professor?" Rose prompted again. "You do have a plan, right? I mean, there's _three_ Daleks between us and the exit and the CP's shields can't take a full assault..."

"Sure I have a plan, I have loads of plans - a veritable_ plethora_ of plans, Rose Tyler," the Professor chirped, complete with a cheeky grin. "For instance, plan number one: get Lovely airborn - and time-born - again. Plan two: find a _really_ good cup o' tea. I mean, that cup of tea that jus' instantly relaxes every part of th' body. Plan four: find a pair of boots with pockets on 'em. You can never have enough pockets after all."

"What happened to number three?" Rose began, then waved one hand furiously to cut the Time Lady's response off. "Nevermind! I didn't hear a plan for right now. What's the plan for getting us out of here?"

The Professor didn't respond, simply tapped at 8's shoulder furiously before slapping it. "Well, nothing I can do here, chap. We'll fix you when we get back to Torchwood One, promise."

"Thank-you Pro-fess-or," CP-8 replied.

"LIFE FORMS DE-TECT-ED. INITIALIZING PURSUIT."

The shadow of a rough cylinder, complete with eyestalk, fell across the end of the hallway. The Professor surged to her feet, seizing Rose's hand in hers. "_Run!"_ she bellowed at the CPs, half-dragging Rose behind her.

The blonde ignored the burning of her lungs as they fled through the twisting corriders, the Dalek always seeming to be only one or two turns behind them whenever they stopped for a second to catch their breath or gain their bearings. The Professor's dark hair was almost completely out of the elegant twist she kept it in, hanging down her back in a long, glossy curl. She didn't seem to notice however, just kept muttering to herself as she flicked her digi-pen back and forth in mid-air.

They'd been running for what felt like the entire length of the tundra when finally the echo of the Dalek had faded behind them. Rose collapsed to the ground, gulping desperate breaths in as CP-8 and CP-14 stood silent rear-guard.

"Pro-Professor," she gasped. "The Daleks... how'd they get out?"

"The Soviets have been tampering with dimensional shift technology, jus' like we have. Pro'ly in response to the stars goin' out, same as us. Seems they were successful - but only just. They got through the wall on this side, just not all the way. But it was just enough for a handful of the Daleks your bloke of a Time Lord trapped in the space between dimensions, the Rift, to squeeze through and pop right out into this world."

"What do we do? We can't let them get out... this world's never seen 'em befo..re..." Rose trailed off, her dark eyes wide as she stared up at the Professor, the woman's mouth set in a grim line.

"Wait. This world has never seen a Dalek before. But as soon as you heard its voice you knew exactly who - what - it was. How did you know?" Rose pushed herself up into a standing position, staring at the Professor. The Time Lady steadfastly refused to look at her, fixing one of the leather belts that hung around her waist. "You've been to other worlds, haven't ya? Was it before the Time Lords from my world sealed off the other dimensions?"

"They didn't," the Professor said, brusquely.

"Didn' what?"

"_They_ didn't seal off the other worlds." Blue eyes slowly travelled to Rose, staring at her with a darkening fury that Rose recognized all too clearly from _her_ Time Lord. "I did. I saw the Time War coming... so I closed the worlds, all of the worlds, and made sure not even a single Time Lord or Dalek knew how to fix what I'd done."

Rose stared at her, her mouth agape. "But... tha' means... You're from- you're from _my_ di-"

"EX-TER-MI-NATE!"

The Professor flung herself at Rose, knocking her into the far wall even as a laser shot past, sizzling into a charred blast spot. "Get up - get up, GO!" The Professor shoved Rose to her feet and propelled her down the hall even as the Dalek rounded the corner. "8! 14! _Move!_" She bellowed, but the Cybermen had turned, in unison.

"EX-TER-MI-NATE!" The Dalek's laser arm swivelled, firing off another blast. It hit CP-14 squarely in the chest, hissing as it disappated a scant few inches from the Cyberman's metallic shell.

8 and 14 raised their arms, their own lasers sliding smoothly from the fore-arm cavity. Two sharp _pew!_s and both had fired, square hits.

"8! 14! Listen to me, right now! Your weaponry is inferior! _Run!_ That's an order!" Rose screamed, shoving at the Professor in a vain attempt to get back to her silver-plated companions. The Professor simply pushed her back further, a grim look on her face.

"Ne-ga-tory," CP-14 responded. "This life-form is a threat to Rosetyler. We will pro-tect Rosetyler. We will pro-tect this planet."

The Dalek's stalk swivelled once more. "NE-GA-TIVE. YOU WILL DIE. ALL HUMANS WILL DIE." It fired again, hitting 8 square in the chest. The shield sizzled and with a low fizz of frying circuits, went down, a cry of mangled pain erupting from the Cyberman. Another shot hit 14 in the arm, glancing off with the hum of circuits straining to maintain their function.

"NO! 8! 14! Run, please! _Run!_"

CP-8 staggered forward even as 14 fired several more shots, each one hissing harmlessly into nonexistance against the Dalek's hard outer shell. Another laser hit 8 square in the chest and the Cyberman stumbled, nearly going down.

Rose screamed.

The Cyberman heaved himself upright once more, staggering the last few feet between him and the Dalek, hands extended. "De...lete..." 8 managed in a garbled voice. "For... Rosety..ler..." And then he surged forward, placing both hands on either side of the top of the Dalek's domed head. Arcs of electricity shot along CP-8's metal arms as fingers dug into the metal shell, holding tight despite the Dalek twisting ferociously in an attempt to free itself.

WIth a mighty roar, CP-8 ripped the top of the Dalek's shell right off. Showers of sparks lit up the hallway, electricity flooding into the humanoid's frame as shards of shrapnel scattered in every direction.

The Dalek wailed in fury and fear even as air hit its fleshy, tentacled form previously hidden in the metal shell. The Cyberprotector's attack had torn its laser arm nearly off of its shell completely, and the Dalek wiggled it vainly as even the pale cast of the overhead lights made it blink frantically.

"EX-TER-MI-NATE. EX-TER-MI-NATE!" It cried desperately.

"Pro-fe-ssor?" CP-14 questioned, laser trained on the Dalek without wavering.

The Professor's arms were wrapped around Rose's waist, somewhere between restraining and supporting the blonde as tears streaked down her cheeks. The dark-haired Time Lady looked from the Dalek to the Cyberman's still form slumped against the far wall, then turned her pale blue gaze back to CP-14.

"Do it," she said in a rough voice.

CP-14's laser began to glow. "_Delete_."


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed/commented on this story! It's not my strongest story, since I started writing with only a half-formed idea and no real pre-planning, nor is it anywhere close to being my longest. Still, hope you're enjoying it at least as much as I'm enjoying writing it. :) I imagine only one or two more chapters and we'll be at the end... so R&R, pretty please! _

Torchwood One, London:

**Rose stood in the** middle of the smouldering wreckage of the room, her hands limp at her sides. Tendrils of smoke still curled around the jutting edges of felled struts and the gaping hole claiming the entirety of the back half of the building. She could see three floors up and three floors down, the skeleton remains of beams clawing towards each other from across the chasm where an outside wall and floors had been.

She'd made the decision. It had been her call to sacrifice months - _years_ - of planning and work in one desperate last-ditch effort to save this world.

The worst part was, it'd worked. The remaining Daleks had done just what Rose and the Professor were sure they were going to, and made a beeline right for Torchwood Tower and the dimensional cannon prototype that was housed on the top floor. The Daleks didn't want to hop dimensions; no, they wanted the only working piece of technology that could possibly free the rest of their vile race from slowly disintegrating into fractured pieces in the nothing-between prison they were trapped in.

The Professor had outfitted the CPs and the rest of the Torchwood teams with her latest invention, guns capable of piercing the Daleks' armor with a single shot and destroying the creature inside. But it was Rose who'd made the ultimate choice when the Daleks had triggered the lockdown and trapped all of the CPs and the soldiers in their own building, gaining complete and unobstructed access to the dimensional cannon prototype.

It was Rose who'd destroyed her own dream of getting back to him.

She jammed her hands deep into her pockets, letting her eyes drop to the ground in front of her. She'd saved this world from the Daleks, prevented them from opening the Rift and releasing the rest of their genocidal breed. She'd known very well what she was doing and yet she'd done it anyway.

It'd be months - a year, easily - before they could build another working prototype and resume testing in an effort to get her into the right dimension, and they were running out of time.

Rose sniffed, raising tear-streaked cheeks to the pale sun, a flat marigold disk in the grey sky. It was high noon and yet the sun was no brighter than the moon. The advance effect of whatever was making the other stars go out, the Professor said, like ripples hitting the beach before the tidal wave. Already more than half of the stars in the sky were gone, leaving the night an impenetrable black blanket that draped over everything, thick and oppressive.

No one had much hope anymore, and Rose had just blown up hers. Blown it up to save a world she didn't belong to, that wasn't home. That didn't have **him**.

The crunch of footfalls behind her made her scrub at her cheeks furiously, sucking her breath in as she tried to steel herself, tried to find that inner strength that she knew he'd want her to have. It wasn't the end of the world.

Well, not yet.

"I'm sorry," the Professor said softly from slightly behind her. She didn't move to touch Rose or offer any further comfort. As cold and distant as her Doctor had initially been, he had nothing on the Professor. Nearly four years later and Rose still didn't know anything about her more than the fact that she wasn't from this dimension and that for some reason her TARDIS was broken. A TARDIS that the Professor wouldn't even allow Rose entrance to.

Not for the first time, anger curled at the base of Rose's stomach.

She whirled on the Professor, jabbing a finger into the woman's chest. "_You_ did this! You put the walls in place! It's _your_ fault I'm stuck here!"

The Professor just stood there, hands clasped behind her back, watching Rose with those unfathomable blue eyes. So impassive, like a stone in front of a raging storm, only that cool cerulean gaze cutting like a knife through Rose's rage.

"I know," she said simply. "I'm sorry."

"And now it's gone! My only chance! My one chance an', ... an' it's jus'... jus' _gone_..." Rose turned to stare at where the prototype had been, feeling as lost and miserable as she had that day, four years ago, when she'd stood on a beach in Norway and realized that he wasn't trying to get back to her. That he was letting her stay where she was. That he'd found a way to say good-bye and now he was leaving her here, in this stupid world that wasn't the right one.

"We'll rebuild," the Professor said softly.

Rose choked on her laughter, flicking a careless hand at the flat disc hanging low in the sky. "It'll be done by then. The sun'll be gone, wiped out like the rest o' the stars in the rest of th' skies all over the galaxies..."

"Oh, I don't think so."

The blonde woman turned to stare at the Professor, astounded. "Our prototype is gone, Professor. We've got no time, no options, _nothing!_ How're we supposed to figure out wha's goin' on, nevermind have the chance t' fix any of it?"

"Well... 'cause, y' remember how Torchwood Three had that nuclear shutdown three years ago and stopped respondin' to anyone? An' no one's been able to get in touch or even get near it since then? I think they're all quite alive an' well - an' here's why."

The Professor held up a small, folded piece of paper in one hand, eyes on Rose. There on the outside, in Rose's handwriting, was a single word: **Professor.**

"You wrote me a note."

"Bu-But... I... I haven't..."

The Professor smiled faintly. "I know you haven't." She turned the piece of paper over in her hand, running the tips of her fingers along the folded edges tenderly. "It's written on a piece of paper with my digi-pen. Contains a perfect time stamp of when - and where - it was written, distinguishable only to and by Time Lords. That message was written at Torchwood Three, three years ago to the day, and neither you nor I were there, at least not yet."

The dark-haired woman took one more step forward, her voice low and soft, but dangerous, like the smooth footfalls of a cat circling its prey. "There's jus' one thing I don't understand, Rose Tyler, and it seems like you have the answer. Because my TARDIS, my Lovely is sick - dying, even - barely able to keep herself functional, nevermind travel back three years into the past _and_ sustain a parallel version of herself so very close to her original timeline."

Her face was inches from Rose's now, her eyes blazing intense. "So answer me this, Rose Tyler. Just how is _this_ supposed to save Lovely and the galaxy?" She held out the piece of paper to Rose.

The blonde reached out and gently smoothed the creases underneath her fingers, revealing the hastily scribbled message on the paper beneath her fingers. Her dark-eyes stared at the paper for a long moment, slowly growing wider until her hands were trembling finely, barely keeping hold on the scrap of paper in her hands.

There, written in her own handwriting, was the following message:

**Let Bad Wolf in. **

**- Rose**


	6. Chapter 6

(( AN: Second to last chapter, here we go! ))

Tyler Estate, London, England

**"Are you **_**sure**_** about this,** sweetie?" Jackie stood in the kitchen door, her arms folded over her chest and a deep frown on her face. Rose shook her head as she slipped the rest of her papers into the side pocket of the large duffel bag sitting expectantly on the table in front of her. Another suitcase sat, waiting, by the back door.

"'Course I am. There's only a few stars left in the sky. We don't have the time to build another prototype. The Professor an' CP-2 have figured out a way to maintain two separate timelines with us at Torchwood Three, as long as we c'n get the TARDIS goin' again. It'll give us three more years to take what we know now and build a working version, then find our universe."

Jackie's frown deepened even further, if it was at all possible. "This is jus' about the Doctor. Tha's all it's ever been about, that ... that man."

"C'mon, Mum. Don't start this again," Rose sighed, her breath curling the blonde hair framing her face. "It's not just for me - if anyone can fix it, figure out why the stars are going out, it's the Doctor."

"What about the Professor? You two have been thick as thieves for the past three years. That's longer than you had with him, even. Can't you just stay here, figure it out with her?"

Rose snorted softly. "I didn' think you liked her any better 'n the Doctor."

"Yes, but at least she's in _this_ universe..." Jackie crossed to her daughter, grabbing hold of Rose's upper arms, forcing her to turn and meet her mother's eyes. "Don't you think I've seen some of the tests? How the subjects end up warped or fried or ... or worse? Why do you have to keep chasing him like this? It's only going to get you killed... Please, Rose. Just stay here, with us, and be safe in this universe. It's a perfectly good one, and you've got a great team at Torchwood..."

"How many times are we going to have this same conversation, Mum? I swore - I made a promise - I said _forever_. An' I'm going to keep it, whether you like it or not." Rose snatched the duffel bag off the table and turned on her heel, striding through the foyer and out into the sunlight, suitcase in tow.

There, sitting at the far end of the well tended, sculptured gardens, was a shiny, new red garden shed, complete with a neat little trim and two doors with a simple latch. Rose paused at the sight of it. Ever since she'd nearly busted Lovely's chamelon circuits that day in front of Torchwood, the Professor had moved her TARDIS elsewhere. For the longest time, Rose hadn't even known where the ship was, until one day the Professor showed up and asked Pete if he was "really attached" to the garden shed in the back corner of his estate.

Rose took a deep breath and then made her way along the cobblestone path towards the ship, halting in front of its doors. Tentatively, she raised her hand to knock, pausing.

This was it. She was really going to risk the health and continuity of the time-space vortex just to earn them three more years to perfect the dimensional cannon and get back to her universe. No, not back to her universe. Back to her Doctor. She squeezed her eyes shut, picturing his face in her mind, with his great hair and his ear-to-ear grin, the way she'd done countless times throughout the years.

She drew her hand back to knock - only to have the doors swing open, revealing a blue-eyed, black-haired Time Lady with an irritated look on her face.

"Are you goin' to stand around all day, or are we actually going to do some time travelling today?" The Professor turned on her heel with a swish of skirts, striding further into the depths of her ship. Rose felt the same tremble of excitement race through her as the first time she'd run into the open door of the Doctor's TARDIS. It was like she could taste the energy humming from the ship's heart.

A graceful center tube stretched from floor to arched cieling, framed by a panel of silver and white levers, buttons, and knobs all at once so achingly familiar and completely alien to Rose. Several curved loveseats framed either side of the center control panel. Further back into the ship Rose could see several open doorways as well as a sweeping, spiralling staircase that led deeper into the ship's depths.

What struck Rose, however, was how _dark_ it was inside of the TARDIS. The center tube, which the blonde was used to seeing brilliantly lit and full of colors, was dark, except for a dull glow at the very base, obscured by the control panel. Other than that, there were no other lights.

"She's sick?" Rose stepped towards the center panel, setting her things to one side.

"That's wha' I said," the Professor replied, her hands resting on the silver controls as she watched Rose like a hawk. She had that same intense expression she had every time it came to Lovely or the subject of her past, that intensely guarded, almost-predatory sharpness to her gaze.

"What's wrong?"

The Professor snorted softly. "You should know. You and your Doctor experienced the same thing th' first time you were here." She took several steps backwards, sliding into one of the seats, all the while watching the blonde with that intense, sharp look.

"She's out of energy," Rose said, casting her mind back in time. "Because she's not from this universe."

The Professor nodded once, a short, sharp gesture. "An' there's nothin' I can do to modify her beyond what I've done. She pulls massive amounts of energy jus' to stay alive an' functioning but c'n actually only use a tiny bit of it. She's only capable of makin' short hops, nothing big. She certainly can't maintain us so close to our prime timelines in her current condition."

"So!" The Professor stood again, swiftly, stalking towards Rose. "What's Bad Wolf? An' how are you goin' to save my Lovely?"

"I... I don't know," Rose admitted, wilting slightly in front of the Professor's intense gaze. "Bad Wolf was wha' happened when I looked into the heart of th' TARDIS - th' Doctor's TARDIS - an' absorbed all of the time vortex. But he took th' energy out of me... Cost him a regeneration, too, savin' me..."

The Professor's eyebrows arched. "You looked into the _heart_ of his TARDIS? But tha's- tha's _insane._"

"So he said..." Rose said softly, her heart squeezing at the memory.

"No, no- it's completely _bonkers!_ That much energy, y' jus'... you jus' can't hold it, like water in a glass. It gets into every cell in your very body, changes you down to a molecular level, you'll never be the same, you're... you're changed - that's _it._"

The Professor rounded on Rose with all the intense ferocity of a solution, her blue eyes blazing. "You're the _blueprint_."

Rose stared at her. "Wha?"

"You had his TARDIS's heart inside of ya. From what you've told me, his TARDIS was able to adapt when you crashed in this universe. I c'n take a little sample of you, run it through Lovely's sensors, and extrapolate based on the genetic factors that recombinated into distinctly non-human, they'll show right up..." The Professor continued to mutter to herself but suddenly she was whirling around the central control panel, her skirts flashing around her as her hands flew across the levers and knobs.

"All I have to do is recalibrate - throw in a bit of a universe prime sample, reference against secondary sample, let's call it beta for fun - "

She sprung towards Rose suddenly, grabbing her around the shoulders and half-shoving, half-dragging her forward. "Put your hands here - and here," she gestured, pushing the blonde's hands onto two center handholds, pointing sternly at her face. "Now don't. Move. Got it? Don't move, don't fidget, don't even _breathe_ if you don't have to - which, if you weren't such a silly species, would be more of an option..."

"But-" Rose began, but the Professor wasn't listening. She was pulling levers and flicking switches, a flurry of directed energy.

"Now- Hold on!"

Then the Professor shoved several large levers all the way up and light arced up through the center tube. A low groan vibrated through the entire ship, making Rose grip the handholds as much for stability as because she'd been directed to. Slowly, achingly, almost, the large circle in the center tube began to inch its way towards the cieling, only making it a few inches before dropping once more.

"C'mon, Lovely! Don't give up on me now, my beautiful, wonderful, maddening darling!" The Professor crowed, a madwoman as she worked frenetically at her controls.

"Professor?" Rose called hopefully.

No response, but the sphere inside of the center tube began to rise once more, gaining speed the more it moved. Faster and faster, until it was humming with the motion and the energy being generating within. Everything around Rose was shaking, rattling, groaning with the strain of the momentum being built up, and Rose's hands were - they were _burning_-

She gasped, going to snatch them away, but then the Professor was there, her hands wrapped around Rose's as she bellowed "_don't move!_"

The center piece was humming fully now, the sphere rising and falling smoothly, even as lights of every different color and intensity played across the walls and across their faces. Then came that familiar groaning, the whoosh of the engines, and the brilliance from the center tube was almost blinding.

All the while, the Professor laughed, gripping Rose's hands tightly.

"Lovely! How_ lovely_ that's it, that's it my darling!" Turning to Rose, her eyes alight, she tossed her head back. "Hold on, Rose my dear! _Here we go!_"

And then they were going.


	7. Chapter 7

Torchwood Three, Cardiff: 

**"Rift power, disengaging! Safety on!" **

The blue crackle of lightning shot across the top of the super conductor, casting the shadows of the tall equipment sharp against the walls, the light beating against the walls hard and fast. The generators throbbed, eventually dulling into silence even as the center of the circle fluctuated, the very air rippling wildly. The lightning abruptly collected in the mid air above the center, shooting down and depositing a tall blonde woman in their place.

As soon as she'd focused fully into view, she dropped to her knees, pressing one hand to her chest, underneath the blue leather jacket she wore.

"Rose! Rose, are you okay?" Jake rushed forward, lifting her by one hand underneath her elbow. She was breathing hard, pale and trembling. At his insistence however, she waved him off, shoving herself back up onto her feet.

"I'm fine - fine, Jake. Where's the Professor?" Her dark eyes cast around the large, austere room, only broken by the tall, reflective cones arranged in a circle around the room, interspersed by cylindrical lights, rings and rings of wires and electrical devices wrapped round and round, plugged into various outlets and sensors all converging on the large central control system set behind thick plexiglas protecting an array of panels and scientists.

"Here," the tall woman said from where she was leaning against the far wall, apparently oblivious to the potentially harmful effects of hadeon radiation, etc, etc... The scientists at Torchwood Three had long ago given up on trying to tell the time traveler what to do, especially after she had - with copious amounts of annoyance - explained that if she received a dangerous dose of radiation she could simply expel it through any convenient nearby receptacles with little no damage to her important systems. The rest, she asserted, would compensate.

Rose took several long, deep breaths, straightening up. "It's done. She managed it - Donna Noble - she unravelled the parallel dimension. We should be able to access the target dimension again." She strode forward through the pillars of mirrors, stepping over the mess of wires on her way towards the control room, past the dark-haired Time Lady.

The Professor followed her with her eyes, a furrow in her brow. "You're goin' to jus' jump back in?"

"'Course I am. There's no more stars in th' sky. We don't exactly have time to spare - I need to find him. I need to find the Doctor. We were so close - _so_ close-"

The Professor was suddenly standing in front of Rose, arms folded over her chest, her sky blue eyes stormy. "You jus' made no less'n a dozen leaps through to th' other side. You need to rest - eat somethin', relax. You have no idea how makin' so many jumps through the fabric between the dimensions is affectin' you. Not to mention the fact you _jus'_ found him _dead_-"

"I don't have time!" The Professor's frown deepened into a scowl. Rose swallowed the rest of her objections, tucking her arms around her waist. "Fine. Jus' a break, though. Lots t' do."

Only then did the dark-haired woman step back out of the way, allowing the blonde to move past her - not into the control room, though, into the small room set off to one side. There was a lightly-used sofa set against one side and a coffee machine that never seemed to be more than one cup away from being completely empty. A plate sitting on the otherwise empty counter-top bore the only testimony that there had been, at one time, doughnuts.

Rose flopped onto the corner of the couch, elbow on her knees, face in her hands. She stayed there for a long moment, keenly aware of the tall woman watching her from the doorway.

Finally, she spoke from between her fingers. "'M fine. You c'n stop hovering."

"Who's hovering? I'm not hovering. I'm merely.. observing. We've never had anyone make so many dimension leaps covering so much of the temporal field in such a relatively short amount of time. I'm waiting for you to - I don't know, perhaps grow a second head. That'd be lovely, quite lovely. I'd take a few photos, I think. For posterity. P'haps a video..."

Rose lowered her hands to shoot the Professor a _look_.

The woman simply moved over to the counter across the room, leaning back against it as she studied her fair-haired companion. After several few moments of steady scrutiny, Rose sighed and held her hands up in surrender.

"Fine, fine! M' head's poundin' worse'n that terrible noise Mickey likes to blare on his car speakers and my throat's currently doin' its best impression of the Sahara. Other'n that," Rose lowered her hands and met the Professor's gaze. "I'm fine. Honest."

The Professor threw one shoulder up in a shrug and strode across the floor, turning and elegantly dropping into a seat next to Rose. "I don't know why I bother. You wouldn't tell me even if you were close to passing out. Not at this point in the game. I knew what I was gettin' m'self into, anyway, so there's naught but m'self to blame. You are, after all, the girl who stared into the heart of a TARDIS jus' to get back to him. What's a bit of a headache?"

Rose regarded the Professor intently. "You're jealous."

The woman stiffened, glancing at Rose imperiously. "Hardly." She glanced away, as if offended, smoothing the layered skirts she wore across her knees. Rose knew that gesture well and waited quietly for the Time Lady to speak once more.

"I ... I wager I'm simply... Finding myself unprepared." She turned to look at Rose, a softness to the regal jut of her chin. "Before you, I'd been alone for nearly a hundred years. No companions, no company. Jus' m'self and Lovely. Now I find myself on the cusp of returning to that lifestyle and... I'm finding it unexpectedly unappealing." She managed a slight, bitterly amused smile. "Imagine that." She snorted in soft, self-directed derision.

Rose reached out a hand, laying it over the Professor's arm. "You know there's an answer. Come with me. You two are the last Time Lords from our dimension. Come back and neither of you'll have to be alone."

The Professor shook her head. "No. No, we've talked about this. I can't go back - not even if I'm not the last. Especially if I'm not the last."

"Why? What won't you tell me? Six years - six years we've been together, Professor, and you won't tell me anything about yourself. You won't tell me why you left the other world, why you say you can't go back, and you don't ever ask anythin' about him, about the Doctor. Don't you care who it is? You two are the _last_. You should care!"

"Stop it. Now," the Professor snapped, blue eyes flashing with her anger. Rose was used to it. It came like lightning, crackling through the other woman, electrifying the air between them. The blonde simply stayed quiet, staring at her with dark eyes, and the thunder rolled on, the Professor's brow softening.

"Please, Rose. Don't ask me these things. You know I can't tell you." She reached out, grabbing Rose's hand in her own, squeezing it hard. "Remember your promise. _Remember_ it."

Rose pressed her lips tightly together, remembering the promise that the Professor had extracted from her that day, three years ago, before she'd even been willing to consider letting Rose step into her Lovely, her TARDIS. The Professor had made her swear that when Rose returned to live in her world, she'd never breathe a word of the Professor's existence to anyone in that dimension, no matter how she would want to. Rose had sworn, and never stopped wondering why.

One thing she'd learned, however, was just how useless it was to push a Time Lord - or Time Lady - when their mind was made up.

"I remember," she breathed softly.

The Professor's face relaxed. "Thank you."

"But... what'll you do? Will you stay with Torchwood? Or will you leave, since Lovely's healed an' all?"

The Professor exhaled slowly, blowing a curl of ebony out of her face. "I dunno," she said, honestly. "I haven't much thought past this point - gettin' you back to him, givin' him the warnin' and hopin' against all hope you lot can stop whatever's happenin'. I mean, you an' I have seen some amazin' things, visited some amazin' worlds since we started trying to find our way back to your dimension. I think I'll stick around, make sure this lot get rid of the dimensional cannon once an' for all, then me an' CP-2'll head off into the great big yonder."

Rose smiled faintly. "I'll miss you."

The Professor's pale blue eyes traveled to Rose's once more, her hand rising up to cup Rose's cheek softly. "An' I'll miss you, Rose Tyler. This world'll be poorer for lack of you."

In that moment, Rose ignored three rules, three very important edicts that the Professor had laid down from the very beginning of their relationship including the ban on all physical contact and the unspoken rule based on self-preservation and barring them from ever speaking about how they mattered to each other, and threw her arms around the Time Lady and hugged her. She could feel the dark-haired woman tense underneath her, but the Professor didn't shake her off. Instead, she laid a single hand on Rose's back.

When they finally parted, the Professor smiled at Rose.

"Now, we'd best be sendin' you off. The rift energy should be fully recharged by now an' we have all of reality to be savin'."

The Professor stood, offering a hand to the blonde. "Come on, Rose Tyler. Ready for one last trip through dimensions? I've a ridiculously oversized gun courtesy of the CPs with your name on it and a homing device tailored to one blue police box with a gentleman who you're dying to see waitin' inside. What d'you say?"

Rose stared at her hand for a moment, then raised her dark eyes to the Time Lady's own. Slowly, a smile slid over her lips.

"Let's do it."

_Don't you worry, Doctor. I'm coming. Doesn't matter how far I have to go, from the ends of the universe, from the last moments of reality. I'm coming. _

_Just you wait and see._

_~FIN!~  
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**AN: OK, so that's that. Obviously I left it wide open for what happens when Rose returns from the other world with Doctor 2.0. Whether or not I explore that'll be up to whether or not I can settle on a really good idea... Let me know what you think! As always, comments and ideas are ALWAYS appreciated! **

**Thanks for reading! Geronimo! **


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